


Take The Night (And Tear It Down)

by pathstotread



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pathstotread/pseuds/pathstotread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She wants everything, and it occurs to her that she just might get it." In which Becker gets Jess back to his place, and a shower is involved. Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/220557">Make My Heart Beat Faster</a>. Jess/Becker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take The Night (And Tear It Down)

**Author's Note:**

> I would normally post this to LiveJournal first, but as you probably all know, that’s not exactly a possibility right now! Re: this fic, I’ve completely lost control of my life, and I blame torigates. And, of course, all the lovely people who commented on the first one, asking for a continuation. Title taken from “Right Here, With You” by David Cook.

-

It isn’t until Jess is sitting on Becker’s sofa, watching him fetch her a glass of water in the kitchen, that the reality of the night’s events so far start to sink in. _In his car_ , she thinks, in a bit of a daze. _In the middle of downtown London, in the backseat of his car, and I don’t even remember if the doors were locked._

“How are you feeling?” Becker asks, breaking into her reverie as he returns with a tall glass of water. Jess accepts it gratefully, taking a long drink before setting it down on the table.

“Sweaty,” she says without thinking. “Good,” she amends when she sees his reaction. “Great, actually. Just...a sweaty kind of great.”

“A sweaty kind of great,” he repeats, looking amused.

“Yep,” she nods, sticking to her story despite how ridiculous it sounds. “I was thinking - you don’t mind if I freshen up, do you?”

“Of course not. Take as much time as you need.”

Becker directs her down the corridor. Jess briefly contemplates putting her shoes back on for the walk to the loo, before deciding that they’re probably past the point of needing to be entirely proper, especially since she’s pretty sure he still has an incriminating article of her clothing in his jeans pocket.

Once inside, she leans against the counter, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She doesn’t even recognize herself, her hair a matted tangle on top of her head and her lips a kiss-swollen red. A flush creeps up her neck as she remembers just exactly how she’d gotten into that state, but she can’t quite bring herself to feel all that embarrassed, not when she already wants so much more.

She’d thought she knew what wanting him felt like, all those days she watched him from her post at the ARC, wishing she was a little more brave - or, honestly, that he was a little less thick, because she’d often felt like she was entirely too obvious for her own good. But there had always been this feeling of impossibility about the two of them, and somehow, the wanting had been easier that way - less terrifying but also less all-encompassing than what she’s feeling now that’s she’s gotten a hint of what they could be together.

A knock on the door has her jumping. “Jess?” She opens the door to see Becker standing there with a towel in hand. “I brought you a towel,” he says unnecessarily, holding it out to her. “Y’know, in case you wanted to take a shower or something.”

She wants everything, and it occurs to her that she just might get it.

“Only if you’ll come with me,” she says, more bravely than she feels.

Becker’s mouth opens as if to say something, but then he snaps it shut and just looks puzzled. Jess bites her lip. She doesn’t want to spend any more time away from him than necessary, which is why she suggested it. But he might be one of those blokes who finds showering together completely unsexy, for all she knows. “I mean, you don’t have to, I just thought-”

Becker seems to snap out of it as he drops the towel and steps into her space. “Trust me, I want to,” he says hoarsely, tangling his fingers in her hair. “Just having one of those incoherent moments we talked about.”

“Oh.” Jess smiles widely. “Good.”

Then they’re kissing again, which is something she thinks she’ll not get tired of anytime soon. Her stomach flips as his hands fumble over the back of her dress, searching for the zipper. “Hold on,” she says, reaching back and stilling his hands. He frowns a bit but complies, looking at her questioningly.

Jess reaches for the hem of his shirt. “You have on a lot more clothing than I do,” she explains, rucking the fabric up his sides and waiting for him to lift his arms. He does, ducking his head to help her tug the shirt up and over. It drops to the floor and Jess just stands there, her eyes taking in the planes of his chest, the black waistband of his boxers peeking out over his jeans. _You’re beautiful_ , she feels like saying, biting her tongue before the overly sentimental statement pops out.

“What is it?” he asks, shifting a bit under her scrutiny.

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “Incoherence is going around, I suppose.”

“Oh really?” His hands run up and down her arms.

“Yeah. It’s still kind of sinking in, you know? This is actually happening.”

“And thank God for it,” Becker says with a depth of feeling that surprises her. He crushes his mouth to hers again, sucking on her bottom lip. She leans up on her toes, pressing against him as his fingers reach for the zipper at her back. Not to be outdone in the clothing removal department, she starts working on his belt. Somehow, he has her dress gaping in the back and her bra clasp open before she can even get to the button of his jeans. She makes a sound of frustration against his mouth, feeling not unlike one of his EMDs that he strips down and puts back together in a matter of seconds..

In a sort of retaliation, she tugs his jeans open and reaches into his boxers, placing the palm of her hand against his length. His fingers dig into her back as she curls her fingers, grasping him fully. He makes a strangled sound in his throat, stumbling back to lean against the edge of the sink. Jess runs her hand down his cock, her thumb sweeping over the head on the downstroke. He buries his head in her hair and rocks his hips into her while she strokes him, pumping up and down in a steady rhythm. She kisses every inch of his skin she can get at, nipping at his collarbone, running her tongue over his Adam’s apple.

She can tell he’s trying to hold it together, but soon enough Becker rasps out “Jess, stop, I’m going to-”

“No, it’s okay, I want you to,” she says, which must be all he needs to hear, as he lets out a small shout and collapses against her, shuddering as he comes.

Jess kisses the underside of his chin, resting her hand against his lower abdomen while he catches his breath. Becker angles his head down, kissing the corner of her mouth a bit sloppily.

Still buzzing with the satisfaction of unhinging him so completely, Jess almost misses the glint in his eye before he grasps her arms, walking her back until they’re against the wall, his hands caging her in. He reaches blindly for the faucet, turning it on before turning back to her and guiding her dress and bra off her arms. “Get in the tub, Jessica,” he says. “And for God’s sake, keep your hands to yourself.”

This seems like such an incongruous statement, given what’s already transpired, that Jess can only laugh. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

He shucks his jeans and boxers off, crowding her in to kiss the breath out of her. “The sooner you do, the sooner I can get you clean, get you to bed, and shag you senseless.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” she says, and gets into the tub.

-

It’s a bit of a squeeze, both of them standing in the narrow tub with the shower curtain pulled shut. He ducks his head under the spray for a moment before stepping back, letting her do the same. She feels herself turning bright red when he takes her hand, wiping it clean with a wet cloth. “Thanks,” she says, wetting her hair and dragging the fingers of her free hand through the tangled knots.

“No problem,” he says, ducking his head and grabbing a bar of soap. Unless her eyes are deceiving her, there’s a bit of a flush on his face as well, one that has nothing to do with the steam rising from the spray.

He scrubs himself down efficiently while she washes her hair, the familiar scent of his shampoo filling the enclosed space. She rinses quickly and they switch sides, her breasts sliding against his soaped up chest as they squeeze past each other. Becker raises his eyebrows, and she can almost hear a _watch it, Jessica_ in his authoritative drawl. She spreads her arms and shrugs her shoulders helplessly, which makes his lips curve up slightly.

She can’t keep her eyes off him, soaping herself up absentmindedly while she watches the water slice over the various muscles she’s only glimpsed at before now. He’s doing a better job at keeping his gaze off her, but the clench of his jaw tells her that’s more due to sheer force of will than disinterest, which she finds rather heartening.

He reaches for the shampoo, and on impulse Jess takes a step forward, laying a hand on his arm. “I know it goes against the hands-off rule, but - can I?” With a wry grin, Jess says, “I was pretty out of it, but I think at some point in my allergic delirium I told you I wanted to touch your hair.”

“So you did,” he says, moving aside so she can rinse the soap off her body. “And you’re welcome to it, if you think you can reach.”

“Hmph,” she says indignantly, stamping a foot ineffectually while he smirks at her. Jess looks around for a moment, brainstorming, before finally crowing “aha!” and hoisting every inch of her 5’4’’ frame onto the wide ledge of the tub, kicking the shower curtain aside slightly with her hands on his shoulders for balance. “You were saying?” she asks archly, enjoying the sensation of towering over him for once.

“ _Please_ be careful” is all he says, handing the shampoo bottle to her as she turns him to face in the opposite direction.

Jess takes a great amount of pleasure in running her fingers through his hair, letting her fingers lightly scrape his scalp, working the shampoo in while he relaxes back against her almost immediately, his breathing falling into a meditative rhythm. She’s never seen him so uninhibited. He’s not a man who _does_ uninhibited. To see him with his guard down, putting himself entirely in someone else’s hands, feels like an exceptional piece of luck, one she’d never thought she’d have.

When she’s finished and rinsed his hair clean of suds, she impulsively wraps her arms around his shoulders, bending her head and pressing her lips to the base of his wet neck, breathing in the smell of his skin. He exhales a shaky breath, catching one of her hands and bringing it to his lips to kiss her palm.

“Becker?” she asks softly, nuzzling her forehead into the back of his head.

“Hmm?”

“Will you take me to bed now?”

“God, yes,” he responds vehemently, if just as quietly.

-

Becker kills the water, offering a hand to help Jess step down onto the bath mat. She leans her head over the tub to wring her hair out, watching as he climbs out and bends down to receive her forgotten towel, offering a truly excellent view. It’s not like she’s _ogling_ , she tells herself. Just appreciating what’s in front of her face. He straightens up - _more’s the pity_ , she thinks - and wraps the oversized towel around her. “Feel better?” he asks, grabbing his own towel from the rack as she tucks hers under her arms and knots it.

“I feel great,” she answers honestly.

“Not sweaty great?”

“Not at the moment.”

He reaches his hand out and she takes it, their fingers lacing together with an odd sort of familiarity.

He leads her across the corridor to his bedroom, an unmade bed dominating the small space. “Sorry about the mess,” he says. “Wasn’t expecting, well, _you_.”

“Tell me about it,” she agrees, thinking of how many times she’s convinced herself that something like this would never happen, not in a million years.

They kiss and it’s almost chaste, their intertwined fingers the only other point of contact their bodies make. She thinks that maybe it’s the two of them stripped bare and scrubbed clean that makes it so sweet, so nearly innocent, at least when compared to the fast and dirty snogging they’ve been doing all evening.

Jess untangles her fingers from his and undoes the knot above her breasts, letting the towel fall in a damp heap on the hardwood floor. Reaching for his waist, she repeats the process for his towel, placing her hands on his hips once they’re bared.

Becker nudges her back onto the bed, leaning her against the pile of pillows at the headboard while he sits at her side. “You’re so lovely,” he says, his eyes sweeping over her, and she shivers. He traces his fingers down the column of her throat, over her clavicle. For a moment, he rests his palm flat in the space between her breasts, as if feeling for her heartbeat, before stroking his hand down across her abdomen. Her stomach flutters so much she almost misses him bending his head, allowing his mouth to follow the same trajectory.

His hand remains a steady pressure low on her belly, close to where she wants him but not nearly close enough, as he presses open-mouthed kisses to her damp skin, trailing to her breasts. He latches his mouth on the peak of her breast and she gasps. He laves the nipple with his tongue before tugging at it gently with his teeth, one hand coming up to mirror his mouth’s actions with the other breast. Jess runs her hand through his hair, the other hand clenching at the sheets. She rolls her hips against his hand futilely as he switches sides, paying equal attention to both nipples until they’re hard and aching.

He slides off the bed, kneeling on the rug next to her. “Come here,” he says, turning her so she’s facing him. Jess props herself up on her elbows, biting her lip as he places a hand on her knee, nudging her legs apart. He tucks her calf over his shoulder, and a look that can only be described as devious alights on his face. “I have been wanting to do this all night.” He grabs her hips with both hands, pulling her closer and kissing her belly, just below her navel. Bending his head lower, he kisses first one inner thigh, then the other. Jess is starting to feel like she just might pass out from anticipation when he finally touches his mouth to her, licking in one long, fluid motion.

“Oh, fuck,” she says loudly, feeling embarrassed immediately afterwards. But he seems to enjoy it, making a _hmm_ sound that vibrates through her core completely. He gives her a few more slow, long licks, and she finds that her arms won’t hold her up anymore. She collapses back onto the bed, giving him leverage to hoist her hips higher. It feels like he’s everywhere, his tongue sliding through her folds, then fucking into her and quickly retreating. Helpless to do anything else, she reaches out and grabs a bit of his hair, holding him in place, keeping herself from spinning off into orbit like she feels she might. His hand snakes up underneath her leg, finding her free hand and giving her fingers a quick, reassuring squeeze, so caring it makes her heart hurt.

He slides one finger into her, then two, curving them just right while his tongue worries her clit. She whimpers, trying to prolong the inevitable, but he sucks hard on her clit and presses his fingers just _there_ and she’s gone, clenching around his fingers and crying out as she comes.

She collapses down against the mattress, breathing heavily. Becker rests his head against her thigh, his breathing just as ragged as hers as he kisses her skin soothingly.

“Get up here,” she gasps, not sure if it’s a request or a command, not that she’s bothered either way if it gets him to comply. He does, lying down beside her and kissing the side of her face. She can feel his erection, warm and heavy against her thigh.

Jess turns her head and catches his mouth with hers, her tongue sliding over his bottom lip. She turns her body until she’s on her side facing him, hitching one leg over his hip and pulling him in so his cock brushes against her. They both groan into the other’s mouth. She feels tender, raw and over-sensitized, but she’s waited for this long enough. “Please, now,” she says, rolling onto her back and pulling him with her, her legs bracketing his hips as he sits up on his knees. She watches with hooded eyes as he takes his length in hand, lining up and entering her in one fluid motion.

Jess cries out, the feeling of him inside her almost overwhelming. Becker stills, his hands gripping her hips. “Are you - is this - okay?”

She nods quickly. “It’s good, just...wow.” She hooks her feet behind his arse, inadvertently pulling him in a bit further.

He groans, leaning down and bracing his hands on either side of her head. “If you want to slow down -”

“Hilary Becker, if you stop, I will kill you,” Jess hisses through her teeth.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles in her ear. He rocks his hips slightly back and forward again, eliciting a vocal response from both of them. ‘

If Jess could think at all, she’d think how surprising it is that of the two of them, right this moment, Becker is more verbal by far. Jess can only manage to clutch his back and cry out wordlessly as he fucks her, the intensity of the experience stripping away her usual verbosity. But Becker keeps up a steady stream of words, muttering “so fucking perfect” and “oh God, Jess” against her skin. He sets his teeth lightly on her neck, his stubble scraping her skin; she’ll be wearing high-necked shirts for a week, but right now, she couldn’t care less. Her nails dig sharply into his shoulders and she rocks her hips in rhythm with his.

Becker slides a hand between them, rolling her clit between his thumb and forefinger. “Come for me, Jess,” he says, and her traitorous body immediately responds, another orgasm washing over her before she can blink.

“That is so unfair,” she grits out as she comes down.

“Not from where I’m standing,” he says, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

“I hate you,” she says shakily.

“Heard that one before.”

Jess huffs and gathers up what little strength she has left, using her legs as leverage to roll them over until he’s on his back. She plants her knees on the bed, grasping his hands and leaning forward, her breasts brushing against his chest. “Your turn,” she whispers as she starts to ride him.

His fingers grip hers for dear life. “Oh, fuck, Jess, just like that,” he says, his hips snapping up helplessly. She clenches around him and he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck straining as he arches up and comes.

Jess collapses on top of him, her head on his chest. Becker disentangles their hands to wrap his arms tightly around her back, his heart hammering beneath her ear. He kisses the top of her head. “That was...” he trails off.

“Hmm?” she prompts, crossing her arms across his chest and resting her chin on top of her hands, looking up at him. “Don’t go back to silent Captain Becker on me now.”

“Sweaty,” he finishes teasingly. Her eyes narrow. “Great?” he amends.

“Better,” she says, letting her head fall back down.

He strokes a hand through her hair. “It was brilliant,” he says quietly. “You are truly amazing.”

Jess yawns hugely before clapping a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry!” she says, Becker making noises of mock indignation. “This has been probably the best night of my life, but I’m just so _tired_ , and, oh, sod it.” Mortified, she hides her face in his neck.

“Jess, it’s fine,” Becker says, reaching for the sheet to toss over them both. “Go to sleep.”

“You don’t mind if I stay?”

“Like I’d let you go anywhere,” he scoffs. “I’m not done with you yet, Jess Parker.”

“Yeah, well, you either,” she mumbles, nuzzling happily against him. He chuckles softly into her hair, the sound reverberating in her ears as she drifts off to sleep.

 _end_


End file.
